Escape To Larkspur Hallow

Aurora was always a little strange. Her light brown skin has always been cold to the touch, her pale pink hair is not dyed, and she is deathly allergic to anything garlic. And for some reason, she just cannot stand being in the sun.

The morning crisp air blew roughly against Aurora’s window. The early autumn branches hit her window continuously as if it was screaming for her to rise from her slumber. She didn’t move a single muscle.

This time, the sunlight decided to creep in--as if that were to do the trick. The sunlight slid across her cluttered floor. Textbooks tangled up in comic books and DVDs, her favorite grey hoodie draped over her gaming chair, and an empty pickle jar she’d forgotten about for days. Under her stars and moon comforter, a curled-up Aurora felt discomfort once she could practically feel the sunlight glaring at her.

She awoke with a furrowed brow when the early autumn sun crept into her room through her dark blue curtains (so much for blackout curtains). After a moment, a frustrated groan escapes her lips as she arises from her bed, shaking off the cold sweat like frost. The first thing Aurora did was scratch her crimson satin bonnet—her slightly long nails continuously dug into her scalp in a circular rotation. Getting out of bed, she steps over scattered comic books and a few piles of clothes onto her open door.

The droopy eyed mixed girl made her way downstairs, passing various hung-up pictures of her and her mother, as well as pictures of her mother’s side of the family. She made her way into the sea-green kitchen that she and her mother had painted a few weekends prior. The smell of something rare hit her nose, which made her eyes snap open.

“Mom..?” Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. It couldn’t be… something that expensive? Here? “Bacon..? What’s the occasion?”

Her mother, Tamika, stood over the stove in black skinny jeans, matching flats, with an orange sweater and mismatched animal earrings. Her sleepy hazel eyes met her daughter’s and smiled.

“Well, my sweet girl, I figured since it’s going to be your birthday next month, I wanted to give you one of your gifts early.” Tamika flipped over four strips of sizzling bacon before placing them on the plate, complemented by cheesy scrambled eggs. She grabbed another plate with bacon and sunny-side-up eggs and went over to the small table in the middle of the kitchen. Aurora sat down quickly before her. Her eyes widened with awe as the plate was set down in front of her.

Aurora and Tamika pressed their hands together and said grace—then began to eat. The first thing Aurora did was grab the bottle of ketchup and shake it up—eyeing the pork like prey.

‘It’s been so long…’ Aurora thought to herself, her mouth watering.

Pork is a scarce and expensive thing in America. After the Great Reset, the world was in shambles. Toxins and poisons in the atmosphere, rain became toxic, seasons became unpredictable, and some animals became rather uncommon, so uncommon that if you were to come across them at the markets, it would be difficult to pay for them. A pack of bacon, for example, could go up to $100 bucks.

The thought alone made Aurora hesitate from splattering ketchup all over her food. She paused,

“You didn’t have to buy bacon. What about bills that $100 could’ve easily gone to our light bill or to rent?”

Tamika cut her bacon and put it into her mouth, chewing it, slowly savoring it, fighting the urge to close her eyes and swing her head back.

“That’s why I work.” She said, “Please don’t worry about these things. You get all stressed out. I don’t want you to experience stress so early on.”

Aurora huffed in response.

‘She’s right—I do tend to get stressed out easily…’

She picked up the ketchup and shook it up, then drowned the food with it. As she picked up her fork, she opened her mouth,

“Also… uh, my allergies have been getting worse lately…”

Tamika paused, “…really?”

Aurora nodded, “The sun …. It stunned me a little when I woke up.” She looked at her mother, and her expression didn’t make the situation any better. Her laid-back, sleepy-eyed mother had a frown on her face with her gaze lowered. It then went away, and she went back to her usual self,

“I’ll drive you to school, okay? It would be no biggie.”

Aurora let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding,

“Thanks, mom.”

She went back to eating her breakfast. For 10 minutes, the kitchen/dining room was devoid of human speech—all there was were the sounds of forks hitting plates and into mouths. Aurora couldn’t remember the last time she had bacon—the way the meat hits her tongue and her nerve bumps danced upon her skin. Each bite made her swing back and forth in her seat. Tamika occasionally brought her gaze up from her plate. A smile stretched across her face at the sight of her daughter moving with glee.

‘That pork was a bit expensive… it was a rather foolish choice, but as long as my kid is happy.’